The office chair wheezed around in circles as it spun slowly, finally coming to a stop. She extended a foot to plant it against the side of the steel security desk before kicking off, like a swimmer at the side of a pool, and the office chair spun back around the opposite way. The beige grey ceiling's pattern turning into circular streaks was only marginally more interesting than what she was supposed to be looking at.
Mara Jade was bored.
That was, she thought, a massive understatement. She had been bored for months, and on Coruscant there was not even the option of doing something to harass an underling and cause an incident of interest.
With a long sigh, she sat up to stare dully at the screen. Luke Skywalker was, as usual, slumped in the corner of his cell, eyes dazed and unfocused. The increased dose of the serum was starting to make him drool, but anything less and the Emperor decided he had too much autonomy. And, of course, to say Mara was bitter about this was like saying Tatooine had a wee bit of sand.
Not that she was one to celebrate prematurely, she reminded herself. Of course when the news came that Vader had been ambushed while in his personal fighter was delicious, and she had smiled, but she had refrained from letting herself gloat until his name was officially moved to the Missing In Action, Presumed Dead list. She had waited patiently, so patiently, for the Emperor to finally give her the promotion that she felt had been hers for years. And she waited. Whatever hope she had that being Skywalker's babysitter was a temporary trial had long since faded. It was drudgery. Watching paint dry would have been more interesting. Even playing sabacc against the computer had completely lost any appeal, she'd done it so much. Oh, at first, it had been all right to stare at him. He looked as she remembered him from Tatooine, when he had been a pleasantly interesting prey, charmingly competent (but not good) with his lightsaber or the Force. As he sat drugged out of his mind, when she was initially so bored, he was even still handsome enough for her to consider using him simply because it'd be something to do.
But now his cheeks were sunken, his skin pale and greying, and dark circles hung underneath his eyes (never mind that pathetic, slackjawed expression). Whatever charm the farmboy once had was now neatly eradicated. She was disgusted. And very bored.
She had spent fifteen minutes trying to get her hair into the most complicated braid she could think of, using only the Force (because in her desperation it had seemed like something barely approaching fun), when a small sound made her jump. Frowning, she peered at the screen, and the output of the many cameras in Skywalker's cell. The sound came again from the tinny speaker. It was, perhaps, a laugh – a very small, gurgling sort of one. And he was... smiling?
Laughter, and smiling? That was certainly all wrong. With over-eager excitement, she shook out her hair, bounding up to nearly skip down the hall in excitement. Something was actually happening! Even if it was a minor incident, at least it broke up the monotony.
The cell doors opened with a hiss and she crossed her arms, gleeful to finally have the chance to look her most impressively furious. "What is going on in here?"
It took Luke Skywalker a few seconds to actually look at her, his gaze not quite as dull and distant as she remembered. The smile slid off of his face. But she couldn't see the other figure standing in the room. She especially could not see how Obi-Wan grinned, and she was not aware of how the Force ghost whispered a joke only Luke could hear. It was, of course, a joke at her expense. But it was what Luke needed to hear, just as how the last hour had been spent with Obi-Wan bringing the boy hope and a small bit of entertainment through old war-stories and wisdom.
The joke hit true and after a few seconds for his sluggish, drugged brain to process it, Luke burst into wheezing laughter.
"What is it?" Her eyebrows knit in frustration, and her nostrils flared in a snort. "What is going on, Skywalker?"
Kenobi made another comment she did not see or hear, and Luke's wheezy laughter redoubled. It was such a pure and simple delight, to laugh at a joke after months of torture, that Mara found herself baring her teeth at how much the light side of the Force permeated the room. It was like an obnoxious, over-applied perfume; she half expected to start sneezing. Unfortunately, she did finally get the idea that there was a joke she was not in on.
"Fine. Fine. We can fix this," she huffed, glancing back to the ample cabinet of torture devices that were not actually supposed to be provided for her use. But she felt justified in bending the rules. The smile slid off of Skywalker's face again.
Her night was much more interesting, but she did not understand by what power Luke remained so stoic through it all.
A/N: A chapter with no Vader/Anakin whiny introspection? Sign of the apocalypse! ...Seriously though, this and the next chapter mark the point where I think the story starts to pick up. We should be out of introspectionland soon, and I apologize that it took so long for this to get going! As always, thank you for reading... it really makes my day to know others enjoy reading what I enjoy writing. :)